


Sticky Notes

by Cerinh (AnnieAmazing)



Category: Dir en grey, La:Sadie's
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Break Up, Caring, Dirty Dancing, Domestic Fucker Family, Drunken Kissing, Face Punching, Family Dynamics, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Terminal Illness, Inspiration, Japanese Zombie Heroez, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Lust, M/M, Memories, Multi, New Years, Nightmares, Public Display of Affection, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms), Seduction, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Tension, Sleepy Kisses, Tattoos, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieAmazing/pseuds/Cerinh
Summary: A (most likely) growing collection of one shots short enough to fit on a sticky note. Pairings vary from chapter to chapter, but most of them will involve Kaoru and Die. Not all of them are decidedly romantic, but you can read them as such if you wish.Please leave your prompts in the comments. :)Ch. 1: Die/Kaoru; Ch. 2: Die/Toshiya/Kaoru; Ch. 3: Die/Kaoru; Ch. 4: Die/Kaoru, Kisaki/Die; Ch. 5: Die/Shinya, Die/Kaoru, Kaoru/Toshiya; Ch. 6: Die/Toshiya, Die/Shinya, Die/Kyo, Die/Kaoru; Ch. 7: Kyo/Shinya; Ch. 8: Die/Kaoru; Ch. 9: Die/Toshiya, Die/Kaoru, Die/Kaoru/Toshiya; Ch. 10: Die/Kaoru, Toshiya; Ch. 11: Die/Kaoru, Kaoru/Toshiya, Kaoru/Shinya, Kaoru/Kyo; Ch. 12: ?/Kaoru, ?/Toshiya; Ch. 13: Die/Kaoru (please take note of the tags); Ch. 14: Die/Kaoru; Ch. 15: Die/Kaoru;tbc?





	1. Clueless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VNMS_Lily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VNMS_Lily/gifts).



> Thank you for your kind words, you really keep me going.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You don’t_ do _feelings, I know.”_

“I love you.”

“U-huh,” Kaoru hummed in acknowledgement of the statement, not even looking up from the sheet music he was studying.

Die huffed. “What, that’s all I get? You have nothing to say to me?”

The leader rolled his eyes and threw Die a sideways glance. “What do you want me to say?”

Shrugging, the redhead caught his bottom lip with his teeth and bit down on it momentarily. “I dunno. Just something other than ‘u-huh’ would be nice.”

A long-suffering sigh left the older man’s lips and he finally turned his head to properly look at his friend. “Fine, whatever. I know you do.” Then he went back to the sheet music.

Die groaned. “You what? What kind of an answer is _that?”_

Forcefully slamming the sheet of paper onto the table in front of him, Kaoru crossed his arms and proceeded to glare daggers at Die. “Look, I appreciate your feelings, but right now I’m kind of in the middle of something. So why don’t you go bother Toshiya or whoever else. Much appreciated.”

There was a flash of hurt crossing over the redhead’s features, impossible to miss even for his pissed-off best friend.

Kaoru frowned, then sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair, blowing his blond fringe out of his eyes. A pang of guilt made his heart constrict uncomfortably in his chest and he nervously scratched at his goatee. “Die, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

The younger huffed again and looked away, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You don’t _do_ feelings and all that mushy crap, I know. Macho.”

Ignoring the last remark, the leader nodded, even though his fellow guitarist couldn’t see it. “And _you_ don’t really need me to say ‘me, too’ to know how I feel about you. We’ve been best friends for a _decade,_ Die, and you never needed me to actually say it.”

“Yeah, I know…” Die sounded defeated, his usually warm tenor barely more than a painful sounding rasp. With a start, the older recognised it as the sound of suppressed tears.

Kaoru took a deep breath. God, he absolutely hated this. Feelings weren’t something he _talked_ about. They were something he expressed in his music, or in a smile, possibly a touch or the odd sentimental gesture. Regardless... “Love you, too.”

Die nodded without looking at him, his head turned to the side, his eyes obscured by his red bangs. “Wasn't so hard, was it?” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly still.

A soft sigh left the leader and he got up from his chair to move over to his friend. Die shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other, still hiding behind his hair as the older invaded his personal space.

“What do you say we go grab a beer at mine and watch that movie Kyo recommended, huh?” The raven haired tried to sound cheerful. That ought to brighten the mood, right? Right?

Die sniffed, but said nothing and still didn’t look at Kaoru. So the leader did the only logical thing -- he reached out, took the other’s face in his hands and forced him to. And then he saw the tears threatening to spill, and felt his own heart break.

“Hey,” he whispered, feeling his throat tighten, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a huge asshole sometimes.”

The redhead just lightly shook his head, as much as he was able with Kaoru’s hands on either side of his face. “No, just clueless,” he finally whispered and closed his eyes to will away the tears burning at the edges of his vision.

At that, Kaoru frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” he managed after a moment, searching Die’s eyes for any kind of hint when they opened again.

There was a flash of something the older couldn’t quite read in the cinnamon orbs before suddenly a pair of warm, heart shaped lips descended upon his.

Kaoru should have been appalled, or at least surprised. But he wasn’t. He should have been disgusted, after all he was straight. But he didn’t mind. On the contrary; Die’s mouth on his felt oddly familiar. They had never kissed before, and yet it was as if he’d known what it would be like all along.

Die whimpered softly into the touch, wordlessly pleading with Kaoru to respond to him, to not push him away.

Without wasting another thought on it, the leader’s eyelids fluttered shut and he kissed Die back. He didn’t _do_ feelings. But this was Die. And for Die, he could make an exception. For Die, he would try.


	2. Game Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“When they danced, they were one.”_

****Toshiya grinned as he listened to Shinya’s lisp. The one he always got when he was drunk, and sometimes even when he was sober and really, really nervous. It was kind of cute. Funny, definitely. But they didn’t tease him about it anymore. Poor soul had taken enough of that when he was still in school.

There was a warm hand on the bassist’s shoulder, a thumb idly drawing circles over the bare skin. Kaoru had scolded him for wearing a tank top when it was _goddamn_ December and _fucking_ snowing out there, but Die, to whom the hand on his shoulder belonged, had nodded appreciatively at Toshiya’s choice of shirt.

He took a sip from his fruity, _girly_ cocktail and blinked irritatedly to his left, where the redhead was sitting, as the contact of his warm fingers was lost and the spot where it had been was suddenly very cold. Die was grabbing for his beer. Heineken. He didn’t know what Die and Kaoru liked about the stuff. It tasted like piss. Looked like it, too. The bassist didn’t like beer. But then, he was the girly kind of gay. Well, he wasn’t gay, he liked girls. But he liked guys more.

Toshiya frowned at the green glass as he watched his friend take a swig of the piss-coloured liquid and then wedge the bottle between his thighs.

The hand returned to his shoulder, warming the previously vacated spot again, the thumb drawing idle circles once more. It caused Toshiya to smile to himself. Die didn’t pay much attention to him, other than the simple, friendly touch. The redhead’s left leg was draped over Kaoru’s right one, the left hand at the back of the leader’s neck, fingers playing with dark hair.

Die got so touchy when he was drunk. _Was_ he drunk? Toshiya listened to him say something to Kaoru and he could tell that he wasn’t. Maybe just one of those days, then. Game night.

He leaned into the redhead’s side and nudged him with his elbow, succeeding in capturing his attention. “Wanna dance?” he asked, purposefully adding a slur to his words. Toshiya wasn’t drunk, either, but he liked to pretend. It gave him the security of not being held responsible for his actions. Much.

Toshiya loved dancing with Die. Die knew how to use his body, how to turn people’s attention to him with his hips. And he drew in Toshiya like a moth to the flame. The bassist didn’t really have a _thing_ for Die. But when they danced, it was the sweetest sin. For those precious moments, they were one, and it was glorious.

Die grinned at him and nodded. He took another sip from his beer and placed the bottle on the table, then flung his other leg over Kaoru’s and playfully scooted closer, planted his flat ass on the older guitarist’s leg. Die wiggled around, earning a frown from Kaoru and making Toshiya laugh.

Kaoru didn’t like to be touched so intimately, especially in public. So Toshiya and Die had long ago decided to make a game out of it. Who could make the leader snap. One of these days, they would get him to… whatever was going to happen when the older man’s patience finally ran out. Maybe he’d yell. Or maybe he’d fuck them against a wall. That would be the preferred outcome.

Toshiya, while not having a thing for Die, most definitely had one for Kaoru. And so did Die. But Kaoru -- straight as an arrow. That’s what made it so enticing to play. And that was another reason why they danced. Because then, Kaoru _saw._

They wanted him to see.

Die jumped off the other guitarist’s lap, his hand brushed over the inked neck as if by accident. A carefully planned accident. He extended a hand to Toshiya, who grabbed it and stood. Their eyes met and Die offered his most seductive look, even licked his lips.

Toshiya could hear Kaoru groan in passing. It was a mostly annoyed sound, but there was something else there, too. Anticipation. Kaoru knew what was coming. Toshiya smiled and bit his bottom lip. He still held Die’s hand as they moved to their hunting ground.

They swayed with the music for a moment, getting a feel for the beat. Then, Die started moving and Toshiya turned around, pressed his back into Die’s chest. Hands on his hips synced him up with the man behind him. His arms came up and around to the back of Die’s head, grabbing at silken hair. _Pulling._

A bass drop, and Toshiya slid down Die’s front, almost all the way to the floor. Back up, leaning forward slightly, pushing his ass right against Die’s crotch. Fingers pressed into his spine. Toshiya arched his back as they remained like that and just moved. He moaned and felt himself get turned on as Die pressed into him more. _Hard._ They both were. And they were one.

Die fisted Toshiya’s hair and pulled him back upright. Forced him to tilt his head and licked his neck. That was new. But it was good. A tattooed hand came around him, rested below his navel. Went lower. Palmed him. He gasped, eyes fluttered shut. That was new, too. Maybe they didn’t need Kaoru after all.

Suddenly, a hand on his upper arm, dragging him away from Die and turning him towards the exit. A flash of red next to him, being shoved in the same direction.

They grinned at each other as they stumbled outside without their jackets. They didn't feel the cold.

They won. Kaoru finally snapped.


	3. Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you kiss me, I'll punch you.”_

Die was laughing at one of Kaoru’s lame jokes. They were walking through a park somewhere in Kyoto, their singer’s hometown. It was spring, and the Sakura was in full bloom.

Toshiya and Shinya were a few paces in front of them. Kyo was trailing further behind, no doubt taking in the scenery.

Suddenly, Kaoru stopped in front of a tree. Admired it. Die stood, too. Admired Kaoru.

A light breeze pushed their hair around and picked up some of the delicate flowers from the trees.

Die blinked. “Blossom,” he said and Kaoru’s head swivelled around.

He stared at him, bewildered. Then frowned. “The fuck did you just call me?”

The redhead laughed. Shook his head. “No,” he said and chuckled, “there’s a cherry blossom caught in your hair.”

Kaoru combed his fingers through his mane, but he didn’t catch the little flower.

Die stepped closer. “Here, let me,” he all but whispered. His fingers trembled slightly when he touched the silky hair and fished for the pink bud. He removed it and showed it to Kaoru.

There was a smile on the older man’s face. Die smiled, too.

Their gazes met. And suddenly, Die was lost in chocolate coloured eyes. He didn’t even realise that he moved closer to their owner, tiny bit by tiny bit, leaning forward.

Kaoru noticed, though. He frowned. “I know this is all romantic and shit. And you might think we have some sort of moment. But if you kiss me right now, I’ll punch you.” The threat was an empty one. But Die didn’t know that. His eyes widened in shock and he took two steps backwards, away from his friend.

He stumbled over his words, tried to defend himself. It didn’t even occur to him to just flip the other off, give him the finger and be done with it, so flustered was he.

Kaoru laughed at him. “Dude, if you could see your face.”

The colour of Die’s cheeks rivalled his hair. He was still holding the cherry blossom between his fingers, stared at it angrily. Stupid flower. Stupid spring fever. Stupid. Fuck.

The leader’s laughter ebbed away to a chuckle and then died. He stared intently at his fellow guitarist. “Seriously, though. Not in public.”

Die gasped at the words and what they implied, but then quickly raised an eyebrow to shoot his friend a questioning glance and cover his confusion with it. “The fuck makes you think I was going to? Why would I _ever-?”_

Kaoru snorted, interrupting the other. “Suck it up, dude. You were _leaning in.”_

The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “I was not,” he defended, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

A chuckle. “You _totally_ were.”

Die rolled his eyes. “The fuck? I _so_ wasn’t.”

Answering eye-roll from the leader. He was done with this argument. It wouldn’t lead them anywhere.

Snorting, Die leaned back. He examined his friend, brow raised. One last attempt to save his dignity. “I’m not even into guys.” Matter of fact. The down-to-earth, honest-to-God truth. Because he wasn’t gay. He wasn’t even bi. Not really. Okay, so when it came down to it, maybe a little?

Kaoru shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Never said you were. But you’re into me.” He let the words hang between them for a moment, giving the younger a meaningful look. Then, he walked past the redhead without another glance.

Die followed Kaoru with his gaze. For a moment, he simply stood and stared. The wind picked up again, tousled their hair and carried more little pink flowers around them.

That evening, when Die watched the sun set from his hotel room window, Kaoru stood beside him, gently twirling a cherry blossom between his fingers.


	4. Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Something didn’t seem right.”_

Die was feeling giddy with excitement. Their gig tonight had been great, and even though it was just a small club, the audience had been so responsive, had gone positively ballistic, that it left all of them lightheaded. They even made a small sum from it, thanks to Kaoru who had found them the opportunity in the first place; ensuring they could eat and keep the little hole in the wall they used for rehearsals. And, of course, to party. Tonight, they were going to get _wasted._

Their instruments were safely stored back in Kisaki’s van and it was the raven haired man’s turn to get a round. He impatiently bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he waited on the edge of the counter for the drinks he had ordered.

Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder. His eyes snapped to the left, spotting their bassist and he grinned. He threw a friendly arm around Kisaki and squeezed lightly, then dropped his arm again. But the ginger haired man’s hand remained in its spot on Die’s shoulder. It wasn’t much like the younger to randomly touch others, but Die didn’t think on it, still bouncing. He didn’t know where to put all of his overflowing energy.

The hand on his shoulder tightened abruptly and turned him around. Die found himself pushed up against the counter, the wood pressing sharply into the small of his back. “Ki, what--” he started, but was cut off by a pair of demanding lips on his.

Die’s eyes went wide and he froze in place, all the adrenaline draining from his body, rendering him unable to do anything. He wanted to push at the other, get him off, but all he could manage to do was whimper. Kisaki seemed to take it as some form of invitation, biting down on the raven’s bottom lip and sucking. The bassist’s hands were suddenly in his hair and on his throat, holding him in place. Die squeezed his eyes shut, simply waiting for it to be over.

Kaoru was sitting with Kyo and Shinya, listening to their conversation half-heartedly. His eyes were scanning the room for his fellow guitarist and their bassist, but the mass of people between their booth and the bar plus the many colourful lights made it hard to even focus.

When he caught a flash of orange at the far end of the club, he strained his neck to get a better view. Yes, that was definitely Kisaki, but somehow attached to Die. They were… kissing? The guitarist frowned. Something about this didn’t seem right.

Excusing himself to the singer and drummer, he got up from his spot and strode over to where he had spotted his friends. As he got closer, he could see the way Die was standing there, tense and slightly shaking. He didn’t kiss their bassist back.

With an air of confidence, he stepped up behind the orange haired man and tapped his shoulder. “You might wanna back off now, Ki,” he positively growled into the bassist’s ear, startling him enough to break their kiss. He didn’t let go of Die’s throat or hair, though, and glowered at Kaoru over his shoulder.

Die sucked in a sharp breath, almost as if he hadn’t breathed during the entire encounter. Kaoru’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed Kisaki’s wrist and tried pulling the hand away from Die’s throat, but the younger elbowed him in the chest and barked at him to get lost.

There was a panicked expression on the raven’s face as all he could do was watch the other two men, his self-preservation instinct still lagging behind the fear at the forefront of his tipsy mind. The hand on his throat squeezed lightly when Kaoru tried to pull it away once more, frightening Die so much he whimpered again.

When Kisaki resisted the third of his attempts to pull the younger off his fellow guitarist, Kaoru lost it. With all the strength he could muster, he placed his hands on either of Kisaki’s shoulders and pulled him back, then turned him around and pushed him away, towards the exit. “You’ve had enough, go home.” Kaoru wasn’t a tall or particularly strong man, but to Die, he looked ten feet tall in that moment. There was a reason all of them had been scared of the older man in the beginning -- even Kyo.

The leader stumbled backwards, caught himself on someone and then suddenly surged forward, grabbing the front of Kaoru’s shirt and pulling him towards himself. He spat some venomous words at the older, then pushed him back and turned to Die once more.

Kaoru’s hands balled into fists and he forced the younger around with a sharp tug at his hair before punching him square in the face. Not hard enough to break skin or bones, but sufficient to send the bassist stumbling backwards once more. Glaring, the guitarist followed, pulled Kisaki close by his shirt and growled. “You’re lucky La:Sadie’s needs you, _leader._ But if I ever catch you doing so much as glancing at Die’s ass again, you’re _dead meat.”_ With that, he shoved him away, making it very clear this encounter was over and that Kisaki had just lost what little respect Kaoru had held for him.

Turning his attention to his friend who was still helplessly staring and shaking, Kaoru pulled Die into his arms and wordlessly guided him outside.

It was the first time Kaoru had punched someone for Die. It wouldn’t be the last.


	5. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Because… I’m interested.”_

Die’s world seemed to swim, almost as if he were underwater. He was faintly aware of Shinya’s thin, but surprisingly -- well, not _that_ surprising, really, he was a drummer after all -- strong arms around his shoulders, holding him upright. The younger said something, that cute lisp he had when he wasn’t quite sober anymore making Die snicker. But he didn’t catch the actual words. Everything was fuzzy, almost as if someone had stuffed cotton balls into his ears and replaced his brain with mush. He tried to focus on the smaller man, almost crossing his eyes while doing so.

“I swear to God, if you puke on my shoes again, Daisuke,” Shinya grumbled, but left the threat open-ended. After the words registered, the redhead started to giggle again. With a wide grin he slung his arms around the drummer’s waist, squeezed lightly and nuzzled the pale, brawny neck. It earned him an almost _gentle_ smack upside the head, making him laugh. Long-fingered hands on his shoulders tried pushing him off, and then an annoyed groan left the younger when his attempts remained fruitless.

Toshiya watched them from a few feet away, poking Kyo and pointing at their two friends after he had gained the singer’s attention. “Should we do something about that?” he asked with a silly little giggle, indicating that he was well on his way to get wasted. Everything was funny when he was in this state.

The blond arched an eyebrow. “Eh, that’s Kaoru’s job,” he said and shrugged, turning his attention back to the conversation he had previously held with two rather drunk girls, offering to refill their drinks.

“If I get Kao, Die is just going to molest _him_ instead,” the bassist snorted, unaware of the fact that Kyo was no longer listening. He didn’t _want_ their leader to be touched by Die, and he hated the fact that the redhead seemed to have a fucking free pass to Kaoru’s body, too. The bassist wanted that, wanted to be able to touch Kaoru, hug him, without being frowned at and pushed away. What did Die have that he didn’t? Okay, he was gorgeous and the two guitarists had been friends long before Toshiya even joined the band, but still, it wasn’t fucking _fair._

One glance at the somewhat distraught face of their youngest had him making up his mind, though. He shook his head and put his cocktail down, suddenly feeling as sober as if he hadn’t been drinking for the past four or so hours. He made his way over to their leader, who was deep in conversation with some pretty boy guitarist from some other band. The guy looked strikingly like Die, except for the colour of his hair and the piercing in his lip. Toshiya couldn’t remember his name. Didn’t matter anyway. Fucking asshole, hogging all of _his_ leader’s attention.

Taking a deep breath, Toshiya stepped up next to the two men and tapped Kaoru’s shoulder. The older immediately stopped talking and glanced at the bassist questioningly. Toshiya shrugged. “We have a… situation? Die.” He pointed at the man in question.

Turning around, the leader’s -- beautiful, deep, dark -- eyes scanned the room, spotting the redhead attached to their drummer. Kaoru frowned and pushed his glass into Toshiya’s hands who, in turn, placed it on a nearby table. The bassist watched every step the other took, his eyes glued to the smaller man as he peeled Die off of Shinya and hauled him outside, onto the balcony where they would later watch the fireworks.

The pretty boy next to him said something, but Toshiya didn’t listen. It took him all of ten seconds to decide to follow the two guitarists.

When he arrived at the glass door, he stopped and watched for a moment. It seemed like Die was getting a stern talking-to from their leader. Toshiya couldn’t hear what the other was saying, but the redhead had his frowning face downturned and was fiddling with his fingers. Then, suddenly, the rhythm guitarist looked up, reached out and _kissed_ Kaoru. Just like that!

Toshiya felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest and was about to turn away, back off, he couldn’t take this. But then, Kaoru pushed the other away and smacked him upside the head. Inwardly, the bassist performed a victory dance. But he instantly felt bad for Die, his _friend,_ who was now storming off. The redhead gave Toshiya a venomous look as he pushed past him and vanished somewhere in the crowded room.

After a few moments, Toshiya stepped onto the balcony and offered Kaoru a light, who was frantically patting his pockets, a cigarette between his lips. With a grateful smile, the leader accepted and took a long drag.

“Trouble in paradise?” the bassist dared to ask after he lit his own fag, earning an incredulous look.

“What paradise? With Die, it’s more like I’m watching a child. A very drunk, very _slutty_ child.” The leader groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

Toshiya huffed out a laugh. “Then why are you with him?”

Now Kaoru looked at him like he had sprouted another head. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Raising an eyebrow, the bassist pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “I’m not _blind,_ Kao. He’s all over you, _all the time._ Plus, he just _kissed_ you.”

A sigh left the other’s -- probably soft and warm, most definitely inviting -- lips. Then, he chuckled somewhat amusedly. “You saw that, huh?” After the bassist nodded, he continued, “It means nothing. He’s a slut when he’s trashed, you know that. I mean, have you _seen_ him with Shinya just now? I was sure Die was trying to _eat_ him or something. If he thinks he can get into _my_ pants like that he’s hopelessly wrong, though.”

Toshiya blinked. “And when he’s sober?”

Kaoru frowned at that. “I’m not interested in him sexually. We’re best friends, and that’s it. Pretty sure he feels the same way when he’s _not_ drunk for once.” A snort. Then, “Why do you even ask?” He levelled inquiring eyes at his bassist.

The younger shrugged and stared off into the distance, taking in the stars and the city lights. Tokyo was beautiful from up here. With a sigh, he decided to just get off his chest what had plagued him for months now. “Because… I’m interested.”

The leader seemed surprised. “In Die?” And when Toshiya shook his head and glanced at him sideways, “Oh.”

They said nothing for a long moment and stared into the night. Then, flicking his burned down cigarette off the balcony, Kaoru suddenly turned to face Toshiya and cupped his cheeks with cold hands. Before the bassist even knew what was happening to him, his friend’s lips descended upon his. Toshiya’s eyes closed of their own accord and he immediately responded to the touch without even thinking. His heart soared in his chest and fireworks went off in his stomach.

When they parted for air, Kaoru smiled at him, his hands still at either side of the bassist’s face. “Happy New Year,” the guitarist all but whispered before pulling Toshiya into another kiss.

And thus, as the year neared its end, something new began.


	6. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sleep is an elusive, fickle thing.”_

To Die, sleep is an elusive, fickle thing. Often, he is plagued by nightmares, and even if for once the bad dreams don’t come, the smallest noise is capable of startling him awake. Nights on the tour bus are the worst. While some of the others find the constant hum of the engine calming, Die just feels disturbed by the noise.

So Die thinks he is very lucky indeed to have the four best friends he could ask for. They each have their own, unique way of putting Die at ease at night.

Toshiya is sweet and caring. When Die jolts awake, out of breath, his heart beating like a jackhammer against his ribs, the bassist reaches out a hand from the bunk above, feeling for the redhead. Die takes the warm fingers in his and clutches at them, receives a reassuring squeeze in return. Then, the hand withdraws and Toshiya gets out of his bunk. He pulls back the curtain dividing Die from the rest of the bus and wordlessly climbs into the small compartment that is really just made for one person. Their long limbs entangle, thin but surprisingly strong arms snake under and around Die and then he falls asleep with an extra blanket made all out of graceful, warm bassist.

Shinya is quiet and understanding. When Die groans and blinks against the darkness, his breath coming in ragged gasps, Shinya knocks softly against the side of his bunk three times. He waits until Die sits up and gets out of there, and then the drummer grabs his blanket and takes Die’s hand. He guides him to the back of the bus, to the couch standing there, and sits him down. Shinya drops the blanket over him and moves to the kitchen area, heating some milk with honey. He brings it to Die and then sits beside him. He throws a strong arm around the guitarist’s shoulder and pulls him against his side while Die sips the warm drink and shares the blanket with the younger. Shinya simply listens while Die quietly talks about his fears. They fall asleep pressed against each other and it’s warm and they don’t care that their necks will kill them once they wake up.

Kyo is surprisingly gentle and unsurprisingly vocal. When Die cries out, the usually deep sleeping singer jerks awake. He is in the bunk across the small corridor and groans softly. Die bites his lip and is sorry for waking him. He whispers it across the deafening quiet and Kyo snorts. Then, he starts humming a hauntingly beautiful melody. It’s a lullaby he wrote for the redhead after the nightmares came for the first time. It’s probably the only happy song he has ever written and it makes the guitarist feel special. Soon, the hum is replaced by low singing and Die falls asleep again, guided by a magical voice that caresses his very soul. There is a smile on his face even when he wakes up in the morning.

Kaoru makes a point not to interfere when Die has nightmares on the tour bus. Die knows the leader wakes up when he hears him toss in his bunk, but the bus is one of the only places where Kaoru can sleep well, apart from his own bed back home. The sounds of the engine and the gentle sway of the vehicle have a calming effect on the leader and behind the curtains in their bunks is pitch black darkness. Kaoru needs it pitch black to sleep well. So Die isn’t disappointed when Kaoru doesn’t come to help ease the redhead’s disturbed mind. He understands. And the leader makes up for it whenever they stay at a hotel, sleep in a real bed. Every such night, Kaoru will share a room with Die.

When they enter, the first thing Kaoru does is walk over to one of the beds, take the pillows and blanket, and toss them onto the other one. When they go to sleep later, they get into bed next to each other. They don’t touch, but Kaoru’s presence is warm and calm and comforting.

Die falls asleep and dreams that he’s running from an all-consuming darkness. His friends are with him, running like the wind, but he feels glued to the spot. He tosses and turns and groans in his sleep, and he thinks he’s crying, but he doesn’t know if the tears are real or just in his head. Then, he hears a deep baritone in the back of his mind. Slowly, it gets louder and Die can make out the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. Nothing will harm you. Follow my voice, Die, come back to me.”

He blinks against the moonlight. His cheeks feel wet and he releases a sob. But he feels calm and protected now; Kaoru’s arms are around his shoulders from behind and his lips are still touching the shell of his ear. Die shivers, but he doesn’t feel cold. Kaoru tosses his blanket over him anyway and then settles back into the pillows. One small, tattooed hand wipes away the tears and then moves to Die’s hip and rests there, warm and gentle and reassuring. Kaoru’s chin is on Die’s shoulder now, and Die sighs contentedly. He shifts a bit, so that he is halfway on his back, pressed close against the strong, warm chest behind him. His hand reaches down and his long fingers twine loosely with Kaoru’s shorter ones. He yawns and soon falls asleep again.

When Die wakes up next, it’s because he’s too warm and he can barely breathe. It’s still dark and quiet and their fingers are still intertwined. The only light in the room is the moon shining in through the windows, he sees it even through his still closed eyelids. The only sounds are the soft breaths he and Kaoru take. Slowly, he opens his eyes and blinks at the other man, who seems to still be in the arms of Morpheus. Die has shifted around in his sleep, he’s turned so that he now faces the leader. And that is why he first thought there isn’t enough oxygen in the room, because all he breathes is Kaoru’s scent and the warmth the leader exhales through his slightly parted lips.

Die almost chokes on the air he tries to inhale. Those lips look so soft, so warm, so _inviting._

Without even thinking, he leans forward and steals a kiss. He doesn’t expect Kaoru to stir, and so he stiffens as the leader’s breath hitches and a small, warm hand squeezes his own. Kaoru is awake, or at least getting there. Die wants to pull away, back off before it’s too late and the leader actually registers what the redhead did to him, but he feels frozen in place, his mouth seems like glued to the other one.

When Kaoru finally comes to with a soft groan, he seems confused for a moment. Finally, Die manages to pull back. He wants to apologise, but the words don’t come. He doesn’t expect Kaoru to smile at him, and he certainly doesn’t expect those soft, warm, inviting lips to descend upon his. The short fingers tangle more tightly with Die’s, and Kaoru tastes like cigarettes and best friend and a little like home.


	7. (Not) Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Everything seemed to try and break them apart.”_

Sighing, Shinya stood at the edge of the venue grounds, near a fence that kept the bands safely separated from any fans and other people who could want to approach them. It wasn’t as if anyone could even recognise him, wearing big shades and one of Toshiya’s sweaters which he had borrowed this morning, the hood pulled up over his honey blond hair. On top of that, he was half hidden behind two of the other band’s busses anyway.

With a heavy heart, he stared off into the horizon, trying to enjoy the last warm rays of the slowly setting sun. They had all been so excited for this tour, it was a great opportunity to learn, meet new people, to make Dir en grey something bigger yet -- conquer the States was what Kaoru had said, and they’d all agreed.

Now, Kaoru was more stressed than anything else, Kyo just wanted to go home, Toshiya didn’t smile at all anymore and Die and himself went off to get drunk almost every night -- though Die seemed to actually have fun; Shinya just went along to have something else to do than miss his dogs and the comfort of being surrounded by people who he could actually communicate with, people he connected to on more than a superficial level.

A deep sigh forced itself from his lips, the drummer being entirely powerless to suppress it. Mentally, he counted the days until they would finally return to Japan, deciding it was far too long still. Truth be told, even if they were to fly back tomorrow it would be too far away.

He startled with a yelp when suddenly a pair of arms snaked around him from behind and squeezed gently.

“Just me, Shinya,” Kyo said, his voice half muffled by the drummer’s hoodie, and Shinya relaxed a little, though his mind was still heavy. The smaller man’s fingers intertwined, palms resting flat against Shinya’s belly.

There was a sigh and the drummer couldn’t tell whom it had come from, himself or the older, but nothing else was spoken, both men lost in their own miserable thoughts. The silence between them spread and stretched, enveloping them in a semi-comfortable bubble, a moment that only belonged to them. It didn’t do much to help ease the drummer’s mind, however, fear still clawing at his insides. He felt nauseous.

“I miss home,” the singer admitted into Shinya’s shoulder, causing the drummer to release a deep sigh and turn around to finally face the other.

“Me, too,” he answered and put his arms around Kyo, hugging him tightly. Moments like these were rare; Kyo hated unnecessary physical contact with others, and even when Shinya was probably the closest thing to a friend the singer had within the band, it didn’t mean he got any special treatment.

The thought alone made Shinya want to cry. They used to be friends, all of them. They used to cling to one another for dear life, caught in the whirlwind that was their sudden popularity, their rise to fame. Maybe it had all been too much, or maybe they had been too young -- Shinya himself had been twenty when they made their break. Now, almost a decade later, everything they, as a band, and as a group of friends, had achieved, seemed to try and break them apart, and Shinya wasn’t sure if he could take much more of this.

His arms tightened around the older and he felt himself shake. Desperate tears stung at the edges of his vision, a sob tore itself from his lips.

Kyo stared up at him, looking stricken. It wasn’t usual for the youngest to show his emotions, especially not in such a way. Involuntarily, the singer’s hands tightened around Shinya, pulled the suddenly so frail seeming man against himself. “We’ll pull through this,” he promised as if he knew about the thoughts that plagued the drummer, his own throat tight.

“And what if we don’t?” Shinya whispered, shivering against the smaller body, “I feel like we’re slowly drifting apart, and if this keeps up, we’ll end up having nothing in common, nothing to talk about, nothing to hold on to anymore… What if we split up?” He pressed himself closer against the singer.

“Don’t even think about that,” Kyo demanded, trying to sound sure of himself, even as his voice wavered.

“When did we become like this?” Shinya blamed the USA, after all, before they came here, they had been close, best friends even; Dir en grey had been a safety bubble for all of them, a place where they could feel at home. Now, it seemed like just another project on the verge of breaking.

“Quit being so dramatic,” a deep baritone cut through the sobs, startling Kyo and Shinya, making them jump and jerk away from each other. Kaoru stood just a few steps away from them, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking at them with a raised brow.

Shinya wanted to say something, anything, maybe yell his fears out into the world, demand reassurance from the leader, but he knew he could never actually do anything like that. It just wasn’t in his nature. So he took off his shades and stuffed them in the front pouch of his hoodie (Toshiya’s, he reminded himself and tried to take heart in the fact). With shaking fingers he wiped away the tears and stared at their leader defiantly, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

Kaoru took in the way the younger stood there, trembling with only barely suppressed emotion, and sighed. “You’re projecting your feelings on the band, Shinya. I get it, we’re all stressed out and homesick, and instead of talking about it and being there for each other, we’re all off in our own little bubbles, feeling miserable. But that will pass. And as long as I have a say in this, we’re not splitting up. We’re still friends and we still love what we do. Just hang on to that for the time being. You’ll see.”

The guitarist sounded so sure of himself, so definite that Shinya had no other choice but to believe him -- he wasn’t their leader for nothing, after all. They could pull through this. And if Kaoru’s confidence in them, their bond, their band, was anything to go by, they would.

That night, before they went on stage, for the first time since the start of the Family Values Tour, all five of them gathered in a circle and put their arms around one another’s shoulders.


	8. Then and Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I think you’re my favourite person in the world.”_

_Late October, 1996_ \- Two boys on a small couch, one stretched out with his long legs dangling over the armrest, the other sitting in the opposite corner, bare feet drawn up to almost touch his buttocks. They both held bottles of cheap beer in hand. It was cold in the tiny apartment, and dark, but they were content.

“Tell me something about you,” said the one lying on his back and craned his neck, bent his head backwards so that he could look at the other. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a demand, either.

The guitarist, who had just started to move his bottle to his lips to take a sip, stopped and blinked at his slightly younger friend. “Like what?”

The taller of the two shrugged. “Something you wouldn’t just tell anyone.”

Finally taking a swig of his beer, the older one tilted his head to the side. He swallowed the liquid. “A secret?”

A shrug, then a tentative nod. “For example.”

“I think you’re _so_ weird. But that’s what I like about you,” came the reply, accompanied by a small grin.

. . .

 _Early December, 1999_ \- Two dreamers on a leather sofa, one stretched out with his bare feet resting upon the coffee table, the other sitting in the opposite corner, legs crossed loosely over each other and bouncing restlessly with pent-up energy. They both held bottles of their favourite beer in hand. It was warm in the considerably bigger, but still small apartment, the lights were dimmed, and they were content.

“What are you thinking about?” the older of the two asked as he watched his friend stare at the ceiling. There was no reaction, so he reached out to gently pull a strand of fiery red hair. It was soft to the touch, like flowing silk between his (too) short fingers.

Ripped from his thoughts, the addressed shifted to look at the other. “I think you’re my favourite person in the world.” The voice was solemn; there was a gentle spark of affection in those cinnamon eyes.

A lopsided grin was his answer.

. . .

 _December 20th, 2000_ \- Two rising stars on a too small hotel bed, next to each other, trying not to accidentally touch. One under, one on top of the blanket. They had gotten drunk on extra bubbly, unnecessarily expensive champagne tonight. And now, lying there in the dark, sleepy, one of them wasn’t so content anymore.

“Kaoru?” Carefully whispered into the dark, unwilling to wake up their bassist spread out and snoring softly on the other bed in the room -- Die’s bed.

“M-hmm?” Sleep-heavy baritone, so close to the other’s ear it made him hold his breath for a moment. He turned onto his side to try and see the other man’s face through the pitch-blackness of the bedroom. When it didn’t work, he reached out his hand and felt for him. A confused groan was the reaction he got when his fingertips touched warm, soft lips. Then, a sting like fire when they parted and teeth bit his pointer. He was entirely unable to hold back a gasp.

Minutes passed in silence, Toshiya’s light snoring the only noise in the room.

“I think I want you.” The admission was quiet, and when it was out, the redhead bit down on his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut. He took in a sharp breath through his nose, awaiting his friend’s inevitable outrage.

Kaoru’s answer, however, was a soft chuckle. Then, after a few moments, the older turned to the side to face his fellow guitarist, even if he couldn’t see anything beyond dark blotches. “So take me.”


	9. Liquid Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“He had never understood the concept of drinking for courage.”_

Kaoru let his gaze roam across the dance floor, not particularly interested in anything or anyone he saw. Bored out of his mind, he took a sip of his beer. Next to him, Die giggled merrily. He tossed the redhead a glance, who was in the middle of licking salt from Toshiya’s wrist. Kaoru rolled his eyes. It annoyed him. The two of them annoyed him. Lately, whenever the band got drunk together, it was always his fellow guitarist and the bassist who would start playing this _game_ of theirs. Throwing innuendos at each other, one could almost say flirting, in a weird, twisted way. Part of Kaoru wished they would just suck it up and fuck already. But then, this only happened when they were drunk. It only seemed that the two of them never drank enough to actually take that last step. Or too much, so that they couldn’t focus on their little game of cat-and-mouse anymore.

Kaoru had never understood the concept of drinking for courage. Then again, Kaoru had never been in a situation where he would have needed that kind of courage. He _also_ had never had a thing for, or a crush on, or whatever you wanted to call it, one of his bandmates, one of his best friends, one of the people he’d worked and spent most of his adult life with. And he _supposed_ developing some sort of deeper feelings, even just the sexual kind, for one of them would have him in need of some Liquid Courage, too.

The leader watched as Die and Toshiya raised their shots of Tequila to their lips, tipped their heads back and downed the liquid. Their faces scrunched up against the sting of the alcohol, and Kaoru almost winced with them in sympathy -- Tequila burn only ever became bearable after the fourth or so shot, at least if one asked him. And after four shots of Tequila, rest assured, Kaoru would be so drunk he wouldn’t even know his own last name anymore, so there was that.

Glasses slammed down on the table, rhythm and bass sucked -- a bit lewdly if Kaoru were to be the judge of their behaviour, but no one ever asked Kaoru, why would they? -- on quarters of lemon and Die positively _moaned_ (albeit softly) around the citrus fruit in his mouth. Then, there was a flash of something in Toshiya’s eyes, and before Kaoru knew what was going on, suddenly the redhead’s back was shoved against his arm and Toshiya was in Die’s lap, his tongue down the rhythm guitarist’s throat.

The slice of lemon fell from Die’s fingers, abandoned or forgotten, and Kaoru could hear the noises of them kissing. He swallowed. He wanted to clap and cheer for his two friends for finally getting to the point where they could _get it on._ But the fact that Die was currently pressed against him, making the leader an unwilling participant in their make-out session, left him annoyed and strangely, uncomfortably aroused. The sounds coming from his fellow guitarist were utterly, disturbingly… _erotic._

In a desperate attempt to get away from his frenching friends and the awkwardness in general and _especially_ the fact that listening to this kiss was gradually turning him on, Kaoru scooted as far to the left as he could until he met with the corner of the booth, sighing in exasperation as he realised that not only had the move been completely ineffective -- since now Die was practically lying on him with Toshiya on top of his long body, still sucking face and making these horrible, devastatingly _sexy_ sounds -- but also his other two band mates, namely Shinya and Kyo, weren’t going to help him out of this situation by the looks of them; the drummer was gaping with his beer lifted halfway to his mouth, the singer was smirking with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Kaoru, chancing another sideways glance at Die and Toshiya, uttered a (very manly, thank you very much) whimper and tried to lean farther away, pressing himself against the wall as much as he could. It was a stupid move, he came to realise, as Die’s head slipped into the leader’s lap and suddenly everything froze. The redhead stopped kissing Toshiya back, making the bassist lift his head and open his eyes to stare questioningly. One last peck and Die pushed Toshiya up and off, sat up and turned around to pointedly stare at Kaoru, one brow raised toward the ceiling.

The leader felt the heat rise to his cheeks in an instant -- and didn’t even have the mind to wonder why he hadn’t started blushing _way_ earlier already. His gaze flitted back and forth between Die and Toshiya and the room in general. A waitress passed by their table and Kaoru reached out for her, ordering two rounds of Tequila shots.

Whatever was going to happen next… Kaoru would definitely need some Liquid Courage.


	10. Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Magenta and obsidian and crimson clashed and mixed in a beautifully surreal picture of serenity.”_

Toshiya stretched his long limbs and yawned. Deciding he needed to walk the stiffness out of his legs, he stood and grabbed the stack of sheet music full of notes to a few new melodies they had worked on a few days ago. He’d promised to return them to Kaoru at his earliest convenience, so he thought that ‘his earliest convenience’ may as well be right then. Besides, maybe he could have a chat with their leader about their hotel room arrangements, too. Anything was more interesting than sitting idly next to a snoring Kyo.

Stretching once more and shooting Shinya a smile in passing, the bassist made his way down the narrow corridor of the train, passing by staff members and Inoue hovering over some paperwork until he reached the row where the two guitarists were seated. As he turned to look at them, however, he had to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle the squeal that bubbled up from his throat before he could suppress it. The picture in front of him was as sweet as it was unusual, especially since Kaoru was involved.

The leader was pressed into the corner between his seat and the window, his right leg crossed over the left one. His right hand was curled around the edge of his seat while the left was tangled in long, silky strands of crimson.

Die wasn’t so much leaning against Kaoru as he was lying on top of him, his head on the leader’s shoulder, turned to the side, almost nuzzling into the crook of Kaoru’s neck. And there, between the one’s forehead and the other’s chin… magenta and obsidian and crimson clashed and mixed in a beautifully surreal picture of serenity. The calm in those passionate colours was nearly overwhelming.

Letting his gaze roam over the soft features of his friends, down Die’s front and following the curve of his arm, Toshiya noted the long, delicate fingers stuffed between Kaoru’s crossed legs, right above the knee. The other hand was on Die’s own body, half buried beneath his shirt, fingers curled against the warm skin of his belly. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as the bassist let his gaze come back up to the familiar, peacefully relaxed faces.

Without wasting a second thought on it, Toshiya dug out his phone and snapped a picture. This memory simply _had_ to be kept alive. He grinned and pocketed the device once more.

Then, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could, Toshiya turned and walked back to his own seat. He dropped the stack of sheet music on it and turned around to Shinya with a soft smile. The drummer looked back at him questioningly and removed his headphones, anticipating to be spoken to.

“I have this melody stuck in my head,” Toshiya stated, not explaining anything at all and yet saying everything the younger needed to know. The drummer only smiled softly, removed his jacket from the seat next to him and scooted over, offering the vacated space to his friend.

Digging through his backpack on the floor, he pulled out the worn folder in which he kept his sheet music, full of both blank and filled pages, used tracks as well as almost forgotten ones; and a pencil box. Wordlessly, he handed the items to the bassist and smiled as he watched the older get to work on what would later become the groundwork for _Ain’t Afraid to Die._

**~**

Toshiya closed his eyes and swayed softly within the melodies that enveloped him like a lover’s embrace. He smiled, letting the slow build gently burn his skin; gooseflesh rising all over his arms and neck. Then, a peak, the piano fading, replaced by the deep hum of a bass and the screeching of guitars and the roaring of drums; disharmonic melodies clashing in anger and regret before fading into almost nothingness. And there, when one almost thought it was over, another peak, harmonious this time, speaking of longing and lost love, a tune that would continue to carry itself through the rest of the song; violins singing, the piano making its return as guitars, bass and drums faded into the background before finally disappearing.

Kaoru played it back again, intently watching Kyo who wore a satisfied smile on his lips and, finally, nodded.

Sometimes, Toshiya mused as they listened to the finished track of their newest composition once more, all it took for inspiration to strike was the clash of colours and a public display of affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is pretty personal and publishing it makes me feel very vulnerable. It offers you a glimpse into my soul, the very pulse of my being. The nature of inspiration can be quite fickle and hard to describe, but at its core, inspiration is something tied to one's self, like a life line, a string that connects the heart and mind and body and soul with all the outside influences surrounding them. At least, that is how _I_ feel about it. You may feel differently, and you have every right to do so.
> 
> I guess what I'm trying to convey with this piece is that one can be inspired by the smallest thing. A stranger smiling at you in passing, a child's laugh, a song you heard or a poem you read, or watching a love unfold before your very own eyes, even if you're not the one romantically involved. And, of course, there are more than enough bad situations that can inspire a person, too. But I did not want to dwell on those.
> 
> The reason I chose _Ain't Afraid to Die_ for this particular piece is that even without the lyrics to it, the song represents an array of feelings so strong and so different from one another, yet so much in tune with each other that it leaves my heart alternating between beating frantically and clenching uncomfortably, my skin tingling and my mind in shambles. It is easily one of the best songs Dir en grey have ever produced.


	11. Stars and Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Four little stars etched into my skin.”_

Stars. When you look up to the night sky, you can see them. Given that you’re lucky enough and there are no clouds in the way. Or pollution. God, there is so much pollution in Japan. The price we pay for progression and invention, I guess. Oh, well. Can’t be helped.

I’ve always loved the stars. So much so, that I wanted to be one. And, believe it or not, I pulled it off. Me, and my four brothers-in-arms. We found each other through chance and made the most glorious music together. We coaxed melodies from our instruments and put them together and people loved it. Loved us. So we took a leap of faith and it ended with us rising to the top of the Oricon charts. Then, we broke out, across the borders of Japan, first to other parts of Asia, then Europe, then the Americas. We’re on top of the world.

We all did it for different reasons. Sure, you can say one common connection was our love and dedication towards music. But the real reason we all got together at one point to make music was different for each of us. Rest assured, it wasn’t for money and fame, never that. It was rebellion and seeking approval at once. It was love and hate at the same time. It was everything and nothing to us. Music became the one thing which bound us together. It keeps us together to this day, and probably always will, even after the band is over, even after our lives have been lived and we’re nothing but a distant, fading memory.

Through music we found each other, and through music our lives began. That is why we love each other, we truly do, in our own, twisted way.

Now, when I say that… don’t get me wrong. We’re not family, not even like friends, but not simply co-workers, either. I always emphasize that in interviews. The concept might be hard to grasp if you’re not involved in it. But the gist of it is that we keep our private life out of our common business. We don’t know each other’s friends or families, we haven’t met each other’s partners and we don’t know what the others are up to in their spare time. But that’s not a bad thing, you see. It just means that we can be open with each other when we do meet, usually for work. We don’t have to respect boundaries, because we’re not friends. If we say something that gets the other upset, we can simply say “Don’t get your panties in a twist, now” and there will be a lighthearted laugh and a “Fuck you, too” and all will be forgotten; back to business. Because the other knows it wasn’t said to spite him. It was just an honest opinion. Because, you see, Japanese culture is different from most other places in the world. When you consider someone a friend or regard them as family, you’ll do anything in your power not to hurt their feelings, even if it means telling white lies. So you’re unable to be truly honest with them, ever. It would be considered rude, and the Japanese, well… we’re all about politeness. Same rules apply to relationships with co-workers, but for different reasons.

I guess, if I’d look at it from a different angle, from a place where I’m not a born and raised Japanese man in his forties, maybe from your perspective, I could say that, in a way, we actually are a family. A weird, twisted one. Sometimes, we’re like brothers, other times, we’re lovers. We protect each other. Because being there for one another means keeping the band together, keeping the dream alive. Don’t tell them I said this, but… they mean more to me than I’d ever openly admit to them. Hell, I’m not even sure why I trust you with this information. Maybe it’s because you don’t know me. Maybe it’s because you know me better than both of us think. Maybe we’re the same, despite our differences. Or maybe we’re different despite being so alike. Who knows.

Anyway, as I was saying. In truth, I love them, all four of them. They’re my brothers, my lovers, my idols, my rivals, my family. They push me to heights I didn’t know I could reach, and I, in turn, push them. To the limit, and then beyond it, to soar above what we thought possible, for just a moment. Just a glimpse of perfection. That’s what we are. Perfect.

Die, with his brilliant smile and outgoing attitude, who can make your day brighter just by being close to you.  
Toshiya, with his bouncy nature and his need to reach out and touch, always so emotional, never afraid to cry or yell or tell you off -- or offer a hug.  
Shinya, with his quiet but determined (sometimes even stubborn) personality and all-knowing eyes, seeing everything, but never saying much.  
Kyo, with his subtle intelligence and the ability to bend and twist words to his will that it can be as frightening as it is always fascinating.  
And then there’s me, Kaoru, with the ability to bring people to their knees with just a look, but then I smile and those same people swoon; the one with the shoulder to lean on and cry into.

The Japanese Zombie Heroez. The Domestic Fucker Family. That's us. Weird, I know. But also strangely endearing, don't you think?

I wear them on my skin, you know, the four of them. Why do you look so surprised? It’s nothing big, or even special. I don’t think they even know. And I would ask you to keep quiet about it, too.

Four little stars etched into my skin. There, see? Right here, on my right hand, just above my little finger. Red, and blue, and yellow, and black. Die, and Toshiya, and Shinya, and Kyo. I wanted them there to keep me company. They’re always with me. They remind me of my roots. Of just who I owe it all to. Sure, I am the one who led them there, but let us not forget that without them and their hard work, their determination to follow me above and beyond… without all of that, all of them, there would be no Dir en grey. No glorious music. No message to spread around the world like a wildfire -- _keep on living, spite the pain and just hang on._

Even though I don’t spend much of my time with them, even though they’re not part of my private life or even my circle of friends, and I’m no part of theirs, even though I don’t know who they’re dating or what they spend their afternoons doing -- I deeply care about them and I dearly love them.

I could never tell them that. Obviously, because it’d be cheesy and girly and so not me. It would make all of us uncomfortable. So I did the next best thing, and even if they’ll never see it or realise what it means -- I know it’s there, _they_ are there. With me. And that’s enough, it’s all I need.

I have them with me at all times. In my heart, and on my skin.


	12. Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I wonder if you’d even notice.”_

The first time I noticed it, I hurt. Then, I tried talking to you about it. But it was a futile attempt. You only looked at me funny and went back to the song you’d been working on.

The second time I noticed it, I got drunk. I called up Toshiya and we went out until four in the morning. You never once called to ask where I was or how I was doing. I didn’t call you to pick me up when I was too wasted to walk straight and instead crashed on Toshiya’s couch. I could have fucked him, you know. He always had a thing for me.

The third time I noticed it, I picked up a stranger and fucked her in a dirty alley behind the bar I found her at. I hated every second of it, but I needed to get her scent all over me. When I got to your apartment afterwards, you didn’t even notice. In fact, you barely looked up from the documents you were perched over.

I’m sitting on your couch right now, trying to remember what you taste like. We were supposed to watch a movie together. Maybe cuddle a bit. You hate cuddling, but I love it. Crave it. I have this inherent need to be physical with people. So, naturally, I want to be close to you, but you’re working on something or other and I learned the hard way not to disturb you when you’re that engrossed in your work. And, you know, on some level, I understand. I get it. You’re not doing this just for yourself, but for the rest of us, for the whole band, too. Ultimately, that means you’re also doing it for me. And maybe you’re not even trying to avoid me, but still you don’t seem to care much about our relationship anymore.

I’m sulking, and briefly I debate if I should just get up and leave. I wonder if you’d even notice. The thought in itself makes me sick. It hurts. It’s the fourth time I notice it. We’re drifting apart, more and more. Or rather, you’re drifting away from me. I still want to be close to you, but you don’t seem to care.

I don’t feel the tears until they drip on my collarbone. I’m surprised at myself and try to brush them away, but they won’t stop. Finally, a sob escapes me. You don’t hear it. I don’t blame you for that, though, how could you hear it? You’re not even in the room. You’re in your office-turned-studio, working on guitar phrases or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.

It takes ages for the tears to subside, but when they finally do, I take a deep breath and get up from the sofa. I gather my things; phone, cigarettes and lighter, keys. I’m not even quiet about it. In fact, I make as much of a ruckus as I can, complete with dropping my keys a couple of times, knocking noisily into things and walking loudly, all in hopes that maybe you’ll come out of there and stop me from leaving. You don’t. Of course you don’t.

Before I finally go to put on my shoes, I turn towards your studio. I knock, but there’s no answer. So I quietly open the door. I have to tell you. I doubt that I’ll get through to you, but I have to at least try.

“Kaoru?” I address you quietly. My voice sounds funny, it’s cracking as though I haven’t used it in ages. And maybe I haven’t. Your only reaction is a faint cross between a hum and a grunt. I used to love it when you made that sound, it made me laugh. Now, all it does is make me feel like you’re stabbing my heart with a thousand tiny needles.

I try to breathe deeply and evenly. There are tears trying to well up again, but I have to suppress them. I have to be strong, even though you’re not looking at me and so you probably wouldn’t even see, or care, if I cried. “I’m leaving,” I say and my voice wavers. Again, you only grunt-hum. “I mean,” I try again and have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat, “I mean, I’m leaving you.” I hold my breath.

You don’t look up from the sheet music in front of you or show any other indication of what you’re thinking right now. Then, after a sheer endless moment, you finally open your mouth. Your voice sounds so controlled, there’s no hitch, no waver. No emotion. “Okay.” That’s all you have to say to that. No why, though I suppose you can figure out why. No attempt to make me change my mind -- and I would, God knows I would if you’d just show a reaction. Give me something, anything. Show me you still care. But you don’t.

I can hardly believe it. I gasp out the breath I was holding in. Did you even understand what I said, what just happened? I’m fairly certain you did, you’re not stupid, after all. Regardless, I have to make sure. Maybe you weren’t listening properly. “Okay? Kaoru… did you even hear me?”

It’s then that you put down your pencil and take off your glasses. You put them atop the music sheet in front of you and take a deep breath. You still don’t turn around when you speak again. “I’m neither dumb nor deaf. But if you feel you have to break up with me, what am I to do? You ought to have your reasons, and who am I to question those?”

I want to scream at you. I want to throw things. I want to cry. I do neither. I don’t think I have ever felt so lost and so alone. My throat is tight with suppressed tears and anger. Anger not only at you for treating me like this, but also at myself for allowing you to do it. I’m not going to lie, though, right this moment, I hate you. Except, I don’t. I still love you. Knowing that makes it so much worse to leave, so much harder; I don’t really want to go. And yet I have to run, get away from this place, away from you. I can’t be here anymore. But before I turn around and leave for good, there’s still one thing I need to know. “Did you ever mean it when you said you loved me?” My voice is weak and finally breaks on the last words.

I hear you exhale. “Yes.” I wait for you to elaborate, but it seems that’s all you’re going to give me. Slowly, I turn around. I feel like something inside of me died. I can’t even feel my own heartbeat anymore. I think I might faint.

On wobbly feet, I walk to your hallway to put on my shoes and jacket. Before I open the door, I get out my keys. Your apartment key fights back when I try to get it off, or maybe I’m just too clumsy right now because my fingers are shaking, but after a few minutes I finally get it unhitched. I put it on the dresser. Almost in slow motion I reach out for the door knob, turn it, and pull. I catch myself harbouring this one last, stubborn glimmer of hope that maybe you’ll come and stop me, tell me you still love me, ask me to stay. I cling to it for dear life for a moment. Just a moment, until I step outside and close the door behind me.

. . .

I have no recollection of how I got here, or why I would even come to this place. I only snap out of my trance when the door opens and he says my name. I look up at him, and he seems to see in my eyes that something isn’t right. Or maybe it’s because I’m crying.

When he steps aside and I enter his flat, Toshiya immediately pulls me into his arms and hugs me tight. I cling to him. I sob. His voice and hands soothe me. I feel safe. Then, when he kisses my temple and whispers to me that I’ll be alright, I feel loved again, for the first time in forever. And suddenly I know he’s right.

Eventually, I’ll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst with a hopeful ending? I'm not sure why I'm writing this angsty stuff right now, I feel better than I have in a long time, what with just having been offered a new job (on my birthday, no less) and things generally going my way right now. Maybe I shouldn't overthink this too much, though, and just go with the things inspiration throws at me.
> 
> This was written as Die/Kaoru and Die/Toshiya, but I guess you can imagine whoever else in Die's place, if you want, seeing as there's only one clue hinting at the unnamed person being Die, anyway.


	13. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“He waited. It seemed to be everything he did these days.”_

The flare of a lighter illuminated his face for a split second before darkness fell once more. He took a long drag from his cigarette, held it in until his lungs began to burn, then huffed the breath out with a sigh that sounded close to a whimper.

Movement behind him, slow and insecure at first, but getting more determined with every step that was taken. A big, warm hand on his bare shoulder. Calloused fingertips following the lines etched into his skin, featherlight, hardly noticeable.

“Won’t you tell them?” The voice was gentle, softer than usual, a singer’s voice he’d always thought, and then, one day, he’d said so. It had earned him a hearty laugh at first, but eventually, others had agreed, and it had sunk in. Encouragement started coming from everyone, then, and the voice was trained until it could hold a note perfectly. Now, when Die sang, it was beautiful, just as haunting as when Kyo did it, though in a different way, with a different purpose. So much emotion, not quite as complex as Kyo’s voice, but that was an impossible standard to hold anyone to.

Inhaling the nicotine deeply once more, Kaoru shrugged Die’s hand off without offering an answer. The gesture was answer enough. _No,_ it said, _I can’t tell them. I’m not ready yet. Maybe I’ll never be. I can’t bear the thought._

He didn’t look at Die, just kept staring out the window into the night. He waited. It seemed to be everything he did these days. Stand there and wait. Wait for the inevitable. The end. It seemed to be getting closer every day, and yet it took so long to finally come around. Not that he wanted it to. But he had accepted being unable to escape it anyway, so he’d resigned himself to waiting for it to come and claim him. Claim _them,_ for it wouldn’t only affect him. It would shatter the essence of everything he held dear. The thought shook him so deeply it physically hurt.

“Sing for me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from too much smoking and too little use. It was hard to tell if it was a request or a demand, not even Kaoru could say for sure, not enough politeness and too much emotion carried with those three words.

Die didn’t seem to mind, either way. Knowing someone for the better part of your life, Kaoru mused, tended to let you understand their motives, made you perceptible to everything they were -- soul, mind and heart. It also got you attached to them, making it that much harder to let go.

Again, the warm, calloused fingers touched his skin as Die began to hum and, eventually, sing. “It’s just the two of us until it’s time to say goodbye.” Veludo no Tori. A ballad about lost love. How fitting. They could have been happy once, Die and him. Could have been a couple. But when he realised that, it had already been too late for them. Now, all that was left of their future were _what-ifs, should-haves_ and _could-have-beens._ And this sappy love song Die was singing to him. Kaoru almost laughed at the irony. Almost.

“Want to move forward. Wanting to go back. I ask myself this, over and over -- do I need to go back? Will I be able to?” Kaoru shuddered. A dry sob tore itself forcefully from his throat. Without a word, without hesitation, long arms encircled him from behind, Die’s tall but thin frame pressed against his back. Warm breath tickled along his neck, made him shiver again, pleasantly this time, but Kaoru refused to relax into the embrace. They fell into silence, only occasionally interrupted by a deep intake of nicotine.

“You’re not alone, you know.” Words, spoken so softly they were barely audible, and yet, they managed to pull Kaoru apart at the seams. It was exactly what he needed to hear, and at the same time the one thing he didn’t want to acknowledge. After all, _wasn’t_ he alone in this? Wasn’t _everyone,_ eventually? Another dry sob, fingers digging into the warm skin of Die’s arm, clinging desperately.

Die started cooing, “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” _Until the end._ The words remained unspoken, but lingered on the air regardless. “It’s going to be okay.” He might as well have declared his undying love with how tenderly he spoke. Kaoru choked on air, his grip on Die tightened, and so did the younger man’s embrace, pulling them impossibly closer together. Warm. Even through the cloth of his tank top and Die’s tee shirt, Kaoru could feel the foreign heartbeat, steady, calm, reassuring. Finally, he gave in to the warmth surrounding him, relaxed against his friend, and all the walls came tumbling down.

Images flashed before his inner eye. The first time he saw Kyo perform with sukekiyo. Kaoru was standing in the back of the hall, behind the crowd, watching the small singer fondly, listening intently. The rush of pride he had felt course through him then made him smile even now.

The picture shifted. Die, wearing an expectant look as he watched Kaoru and Kyo, insecurity written all over his features, in his posture, teeth worrying over a plump bottom lip. The last tunes of _Secret Mode_ faded out, Kyo nodded appreciatively. Kaoru gave a thumbs up, playing the song back again, tapping his fingers against the table along with it. Die smiled happily, relieved. The tingle of affection he had felt then made his skittish heart bloom even now.

A new image. Toshiya, standing bent over a piece of paper, pencil in hand, sketching. Looking up, giving Kaoru a once-over, smiling. Asking his opinion. Kaoru knew next to nothing about fashion design, but he gave some feedback anyway, along with his praise. It earned him a hug and a peck on the cheek from the tall bassist. The sense of warmth he had felt spread through him then made his skin prickle even now.

Another shift. Shinya, putting down note after note on a music sheet. Asking Kaoru for his opinion on a guitar track. Not for Dir en grey, but for Seraph. Of course Kaoru helped, grabbed his guitar and played the tune out for the drummer, asked if it was what he wanted to achieve. Shinya made adjustments to the sheet music, and Kaoru played it again, and again, until the younger was satisfied. The sweet agony of watching a little brother grow up and spread his wings he felt then made him shed a tear even now.

They all had their side projects. They were going to be fine. They were going to move on. _Without him._ He could barely bring himself to think that thought. How could he possibly ever tell his friends, his beloved little brothers?

Kaoru felt a sense of despair grip him. He was leaving them behind. All he ever had, all he ever _was,_ fading with him. Their band. Their family. Their legacy. Over two decades spent together, making music, living large, having made an impact on so many people. He wasn’t prepared to let go of that, ever. He wasn’t equipped to tell them about it, either. He’d never been good with words, that was Kyo’s department. But he knew that, one day soon, he’d have to open up and explain everything. Prepare them for the inevitable.

“I’m scared.” The admission was painful and sounded just that.

Kaoru had never been so frightened in his life. Not when Kyo almost killed his voice or when he lost part of his hearing. Not when Toshiya found himself on the wrong side of a bar fight one night and almost ended up mutilated. Not when Shinya had that crazy stalker who threatened to kill him. Not even when Die fainted as a result of not eating properly for months and almost died from severe lack of nutrition.

Soft lips against the skin of his temple. “Don’t be.” A barely-there kiss. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.” A sudden shift in position and then, warmth. Heat, all-consuming and desperately consumed, that chased away the chill from his bones and made him forget all about sorrow and gloom. And then, finally, there it was, the declaration of undying love.

. . .

Niikura Kaoru  
Beloved son, brother and friend.

_Your legacy lives on in those who remember you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was previously uploaded as chapter 12, then deleted because I didn't get the point across the way I wanted to. It's not exactly a tear-wrencher, but I'm happy with the result. Even though it's angsty and has implied character death, I think it is quite hopeful, in a way, and mighty cheesy (because I just can't do without sweetness and I think that even in terrible situations that can never have a good outcome, everyone deserves a little love and happiness, even if it's corny as fuck).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.


	14. Story to tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sometimes happiness requires a leap of faith.”_

Hello. It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

_It has. It’s good to see you, too. How have you been?_

Quite alright, for the most part. I’m feeling tired a lot lately. How about you?

_I’ve been fine. Would you like to pick up where we left off last time?_

I don’t mind. But I can’t really remember what we talked about last.

_Let me see my notes, then. Ah, yes. Right here, it says we spoke about the importance of memories. About people you care about._

Ah, yes. I think it’s coming back to me now.

_Would you like to share a memory?_

Hm. I’ve been listening to some old songs lately. They evoked feelings and memories in me. Some of them made me sad, and others made me very happy.

_Which ones would you like to tell me about?_

Huh? Well, there is one that’s somehow… bittersweet. It was very impactful to me at the time I recalled it. It made me feel… everything. I cried, but I smiled through the tears and my heart felt so full.

_What was it about?_

It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll start at the beginning. I was trying to prepare for a tour. We would play a lot of very old songs, so I went and listened to the corresponding album, GAUZE. All the songs made me feel different things. Some were exciting me, others were making me sad. But that one particular song, MASK, it made me remember how we arranged shooting the music video for it. We shot it at Amagasaki Live Square. And from there, I remembered my very first band I joined, ka･za･ri.

_Interesting. Why did you suddenly remember that?_

Back in the day, we would play there all the time.

_Ah, I see. Did you enjoy playing that venue?_

Yes, a lot. It started to feel like home.

_So you enjoyed that memory?_

Yes.

_But earlier you said it was bittersweet. What makes you feel like that?_

Oh. Well, as I said, it’s a bit of a stretch. That venue is in Hyogo.

_Where... Kaoru, was it? Is from?_

…

_That makes you feel uneasy?_

Yes. No. Not that.

_Please elaborate._

I remembered how one of the nights that I played there with ka･za･ri, Kaoru’s old band, CHARM, played there, too. It was a great concert. I remembered watching their show. I still know exactly what Kaoru looked like, how the music sounded, the way he played. I admired his passion and his commitment. I thought “I want to play like him” and “I want to be like that” and…

_And?_

Well, after the concert, I got to talk to him while we were packing away everything. We had a very casual conversation, but in my mind, it’s still fresh like it happened yesterday.

_Is that disturbing you?_

No. I like to be able to recall those things. It gives me this feeling of nostalgia. And it feels like there was something profound in the way we met. And, I guess, in a way, there was. Because when I joined La:Sadie’s with Shinya, Kyo and Kisaki, and then our other guitarist, Shio, left after just a few months, I instantly remembered Kaoru. We had met a couple more times during concerts and I had taken to see shows of CHARM whenever I had the time.

_You really admired him._

Yes. I still do.

_So, you invited Kaoru into your band?_

Basically. He had given me his phone number at one point during our many meetings. So I called him. We talked a lot, and eventually I asked him if he’d be interested in joining La:Sadie’s. I didn’t even have time to breathe before he said yes. He was very enthusiastic.

_Did that make you happy?_

Very. I remember I laughed and made a comment about how I had expected him to ask for some time to think my proposal over.

_What did he say?_

He said he didn’t need to think about it. He wanted to be able to play in a band with me. He thought we were compatible.

_Are you?_

I don’t know. We’re so different…

_Opposites attract._

I suppose.

_How are you different?_

In everything. The way he talks is very sophisticated. I usually use a lot of slang and curse words. Not in a professional setting like here, of course.

_You don’t think he ever swears or uses common phrases in private?_

I know he doesn’t. He’s polite and considerate, where I constantly get in other people’s personal space. And the way we play the guitar…

_It differs, too?_

A lot. His style is fast and non-repetitive. I used to play like that, too. But only because I wanted to play more like him. Eventually he told me I would make better music if I just played like I enjoyed it, rather than force myself to adapt something that wasn’t inherently me.

_So you changed your style?_

Yes. And my whole approach to making music and playing my guitar in general.

_And do you like it better now?_

I can’t really say.

_Okay. I still fail to see the bittersweetness you mentioned earlier._

Oh. Well, it’s hard to describe. I’m not sure I can explain properly.

_I would like you to try._

Alright. Eh, the thing is, with how different Kaoru and I are, with the opposing ways we approach nearly every aspect of life, including making music and playing the guitar, there are a lot of times where we butt heads.

_Ah, I see. You don’t like to fight with him?_

No, I… I don’t really mind getting in an argument with Kaoru. He is usually very calm and I’m normally a bit of a hothead. But when we’re arguing, the roles become reversed. He gets frustrated and sometimes throws things and yells and I just stand there and glare daggers at him, clenching my jaw and waiting for him to zip it.

_You like it when he gets angry and yells at you?_

Mhh… no, that’s not it. I like… the emotion he shows off when he’s angry. There is a raw kind of fire in his eyes when he gets like that and I…

_You enjoy seeing it?_

Yes. It feels… it feels like a promise.

_A promise?_

Yes.

_Of what?_

Just… things. I…

_… yes?_

He’s important to me. I like everything about him. There isn’t a single thing I could ever dislike, I think. Even when he’s bossing me around like it’s his birthright and strides around like he owns the world.

_Does it attract you when he behaves that way?_

Hm. In a way, it does.

_Does that make you feel uncomfortable?_

I… don’t know. Yes and no. I mean… I’m not… you know.

_I’m afraid I don’t._

Gay. Or even bi. Not interested in… men. But, Kaoru, he…

_He’s different?_

Somehow. And it’s so… horrible, sometimes. Because he’s my idol, and we work together and we’re like brothers. And he’s a man. I shouldn’t feel so…

_Attracted to him?_

M-hm. It’s a bad idea. But no matter how often I tell myself that, my brain doesn’t seem to register it.

_And the rest of your body?_

I… I don’t know what you want me to say.

_Do you ever get close to him just for the sake of being near? Maybe to touch him, even in a friendly manner?_

…

_You don’t have to answer._

Constantly.

_Do you think you might love him?_

…

_It sounds-_

Yes. Actually, I know I do. But it’s wrong. I shouldn’t, I…

_Calm down. This is a safe place._

…

_Have you considered talking to him about it?_

What? No! I just told you, I-

_Please, calm down. There’s no need to yell. How long have you had these feelings?_

I think they were always there.

_And you don’t think Kaoru would understand?_

I’m not sure I want to risk finding out.

_Sometimes happiness requires a leap of faith._

But what if I tell him and he hates me?

_Well, you’re just going to have to prepare for that possibility. Though I doubt he would ever hate you. The way you described your relationship to me in previous sessions tells me he’s very fond of you._

Most of that were things others said about our relationship. The way we work together.

_Well, my notes here say that you explained, and I quote: “We are in tune with each other, both professionally and personally.”_

I said that. But that was in regards to the music we make, mostly. We used to write songs together.

_You don’t anymore?_

Well, we do. But usually, we work by ourselves. We make demos at home and then bring them to the studio when we’re having a meeting. Then we go over them together and try to make something out of them or rearrange them so they fit together.

_And how does that work?_

Mh. It’s complicated to explain, but I’ll try. For example, when I have an idea for a guitar phrase, I demo it and then the rest of the band will listen to it and start making suggestions. Kaoru is usually the one with the best ideas. He’s the most talented out of all of us, I think, when it comes to composing.

_So you make something and he helps you improve it?_

Yes, like that.

_So he pushes you beyond your prior capabilities?_

In a way, yes.

_And do you push him the same? Do you inspire him like he inspires you?_

Hm. Hard to tell.

_You must have some idea._

I think I do. We constantly strive for greatness.

_But you can never achieve it on your own._

M-hm, that’s true.

_So don’t you think you have the same influence over him that he has over you?_

Probably.

_And don’t you think he admires you for that, too?_

I don’t know.

_You said he joined La:Sadie’s because he wanted to play with you. Those were his words, right?_

Yes. That’s what he said.

_Then what reason do you have to believe he doesn’t hold you in high regard?_

None, I guess?

_There you go. So, say you told him about your feelings. Do you honestly believe he would abandon you?_

…

_Well?_

No.

_Then why not take that leap of faith?_

… I might.

_Fair enough. You can tell me all about it at our next appointment. I’m afraid our time is up for today. We’re scheduled again in seventeen days, I believe._

Thank you for your time.

_It was a pleasure. I hope I could be of help. Take care and I’ll see you next time._

. . .

Determination filtered through him and he straightened his back before ringing the bell. It only took a few seconds for the door to open and a familiar figure to appear in his line of vision.

The surprise on Kaoru’s face made room for a friendly smile as he invited Die inside.

As soon as the door closed and they regarded each other, all the carefully laid out words left the younger guitarist. Their eyes met, instinct took over and he got right into Kaoru’s personal space. He could see the confusion cross the older man’s features, and then an expression of shock when Die leaned in.

Die didn’t know what he had expected. He couldn’t even remember the words he had wanted to say. But as he got lost in Heaven, none of that was important anymore. All that mattered was this moment and all the things that followed.

Later, when he stared at the ceiling, smiling to himself as he felt Kaoru’s warmth beside him, Die made a mental note. Next time he saw his therapist he most certainly would have a story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on an old Haiiro no Ginka from 2014 where Die explains how he's been prepairing for the "Mode of GAUZE" tour. He listened to the whole album and lists all the things he felt and thought about with each song. What he said for MASK is essentially what I used in this story, but here's a quote: "(...) We played at the same event there as Kaoru’s band (...) and I remember we had our first conversation (...). It was just a casual conversation but I still remember it now."
> 
> You can find a translation [here.](http://direngreytranslation.tumblr.com/post/98796421538/die-meisyo-de-meisyu-haiiro-no-ginka-vol-63) :]
> 
> Now, about the style of this chapter; I wanted to do something differently, so I chose to keep it down to conversation. Also it would have been way too long had I done it traditionally, you know me, I would have blown it massively out of proportion with all the feelings and little acts I make my characters express and do. I didn't want to make a standalone post for this, either, because I don't think it's special enough to allow for one.  
> Anyway, please tell me how you liked it. Should I write more often in this style or do you think once was enough?


	15. Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’ll find you wherever you are.”_

Hey, pumpkin.

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m not quite sure why I’m writing it. I just had the feeling I needed to. There are things I want to tell you. Thank you is one of them. I love you is another.

You’ll have to excuse my unclean script. My hands are shaking. I’d like to pretend I’m just excited because I’ve never written a love letter before.

When I look back over the years, the time we spent together, I feel a little lost. In the good kind of way. Somewhere amongst all my emotions. I can never stop myself from smiling when I remember our shared past. There are only few things constant in my life. Music. The band. Love. You. All of these things are kind of synonymous. So, I guess, in reality, there’s only this one constant in my life, that’s you, and everything else connects from there.

I still remember the first time we met. I was blown away by your dedication and talent, instantly idolised you. You were fucking intimidating, too. You didn’t just demand respect, no. You  _ commanded _ it. Though once I got to know you a little, got a glimpse of the dork hidden beneath the rough surface, it wasn’t so hard to relate to you anymore. My blind adoration slowly bled away in favour of a little crush the more time I spent with you, though you’re still my idol to this day. Back then, I would have worshipped the ground you walked on because I was so impressed by your talent. These days, I worship you in different ways. You’re still a great guitarist, mind you. The fucking best.

I still remember the first time we kissed. It was our first gig after our major debut. The crowd had been wild, the concert glorious, we’d had so much fun and I’d been bouncing off the walls with too much energy. I’m not even sure what made me do it, other than that in this moment, I realised I wanted to share my feelings with you. It had taken me some time to even come to terms with them, to accept that I’d somehow fallen for you. It’d been wearing on me back then, because I never even considered myself anything other than hetero. But the real problem was that I had hoped my silly little crush on you would go away with time, just like my childlike adoration had before. Except, it never did. So when I kissed you that night, out of the blue, in front of our band mates, I couldn’t even bring myself to breathe. You can’t imagine the huge wave of relief I felt when you actually kissed me back. For the longest time I thought I was dreaming.

I still remember the look you gave me when we parted from that kiss. Curious, childlike wonder in your eyes, your hand on my cheek and then a brilliant grin before you pulled me back down. Someone gasped, someone else chuckled. Those sounds were the only testament to the fact that we weren’t alone, even though I felt very far away from everything and everyone else in that moment, except you. I came closer to you than ever, and it was like my heart was reaching out to yours and yours to mine. That was when I knew I was in love with you. So very much in love that it almost hurt. When we parted again, our friends started clapping. Toshiya seemed to be even more excited than me, honestly, with the way he danced around us and squealed. He used to be such a child.

I still remember the first time we made love. I also remember the face you pulled the first time I used that term. It’s too  _ kitsch _ for you, I know, but you can call me a fairy and a princess and other silly names all you want, pumpkin; I’ll never stop calling it that. We didn’t simply have sex, and we certainly weren’t just fucking. We connected, physically and emotionally, until there was nothing between you and me, not a thing existing outside of  _ Us. _ It almost felt like we were one and the same person. And in a way, I guess, we are. Two pieces of a whole. One can’t exist without the other. I couldn’t even imagine my life without you in it, and sometimes, I find myself wondering what would have become of me had I never met you. I guess I would still be searching for you. I firmly believe that that’s what our souls were doing before we met. Aching for one another, looking far and wide until they finally found each other, like star-crossed lovers from a distant timeline, reborn to relive their glorious love story. I also believe that once we die, we’ll meet again in another life. In fact, I’m sure of it. Yes, yes, I know; more kitsch. But you’re in love with me anyway, so shut up.

There are so many more things I want to write, but my hand is cramping up and I think it’s about time for my medication and our afternoon nap.

I’m still not quite sure what I was trying to accomplish with this letter. Maybe I want to leave you something to remember me by in case I fall asleep later to never wake up again. Maybe it’s because some part of me still hopes that I’ll see the spark of recognition in your beautiful eyes once more.

These days, it’s hard not to cry when you look right through me. When you ask me who I am in this shaky whisper your voice has become. Especially, when you look right into my eyes with that searching gaze that’s all but baring my soul to you, and then wonder where Kitten is, he was here just a moment ago, wasn’t he? All I can do then to keep from crying is to hold you as tightly as my weak limbs allow me to and reassure you that I’m right here. It’s heartbreak and relief at once, knowing you still remember that you love me, even when you don’t recognise me. It’s peaceful and destructive at the same time, knowing you haven’t truly forgotten me, you just don’t connect my wrinkled old face to the man you spent your life with.

And, perhaps subconsciously, I know that it’ll all be over soon.

But even then, Kaoru, I can say one thing with conviction. I can die a happy man, knowing that I have spent all my life by your side, loving you and being loved by you. And I want you to know that should I depart this life before you do, I will wait for you. And should you be the first to go, I’ll follow. I’ve loved you a thousand times, across a thousand timelines, and I’ll love you a thousand more. I’ll find you wherever you are.

Love, eternally,  
Die


End file.
